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Megan knew it was going to be bad the second she stepped into the airport.
Like—not “oh haha I’m a little nervous” bad.
No.
This was I-have-Googled-plane-crash-statistics-at-3AM-and-convinced-myself-I’m-going-to-die bad.
The fluorescent lights felt too bright. The announcements were too loud. Every rolling suitcase sounded like it was personally mocking her impending doom.
She clutched her boarding pass like it was a life sentence instead of a ticket.
“Gate B27,” she muttered to herself, voice already shaky. “You’re fine. People fly every day. Literally millions. Planes are safe. Planes are—”
“Girl.”
Megan jumped so hard she almost dropped her phone.
Yoonchae stood next to her, eyebrows raised, holding two iced coffees like she hadn’t just witnessed Megan having a full internal crisis in public.
“You look like you just saw your own ghost,” Yoonchae said, handing her a drink. “Take this before you pass out or something.”
Megan stared at the coffee like it might betray her too.
“What if the plane crashes?” she blurted.
No buildup. No filter. Just straight to the worst-case scenario.
Yoonchae blinked.
Then she sighed, not annoyed—more like okay, we’re doing this energy.
“It’s not going to crash,” she said, calm and steady. “Drink your coffee.”
“But what if—”
“Megan.”
Something about the way she said her name—firm, but soft underneath—made Megan pause.
Yoonchae tilted her head slightly. “Do you trust me?”
Megan hesitated for like… half a second.
“…yeah.”
“Cool,” Yoonchae said, taking a sip of her own drink. “Then trust me when I say you’re not dying today. At least not on a budget airline flight at 10:45AM.”
Megan let out a weak laugh despite herself.
“Wow. So comforting.”
“I try.”
---
Security was a blur.
Megan barely remembered taking off her shoes or putting her bag through the scanner. Her brain was stuck in a loop of metal tube in the sky metal tube in the sky metal tube in the sky.
By the time they reached the gate, her hands were already cold.
She kept checking the plane through the window like it might spontaneously combust before boarding.
“Why does it look like that?” she whispered.
Yoonchae followed her gaze. “Like… a plane?”
“It looks too big.”
“It is big.”
“That’s worse.”
Yoonchae snorted. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m literally facing my mortality right now.”
“You’re facing a two-hour flight, relax.”
Megan sat down, bouncing her leg uncontrollably.
“I shouldn’t have agreed to this,” she muttered. “We could’ve just taken a train. Or not gone at all. Staying home is safe. Staying home has never crashed.”
Yoonchae sat beside her, stretching her legs out casually.
“Okay, first of all, trains derail,” she said.
Megan froze. “Why would you say that to me.”
“I’m just saying—if we’re gonna spiral, we spiral accurately.”
“Stop—no—abort—abort—”
Yoonchae laughed, then nudged her shoulder.
“Hey,” she said, softer now. “Look at me.”
Megan hesitated, then turned.
“You’re okay,” Yoonchae said. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
There it was again—that calm, grounded tone that somehow cut through the noise in Megan’s head.
“…you promise?” Megan asked, voice small.
Yoonchae didn’t even hesitate.
“I promise.”
---
Boarding was where things went downhill.
Like, fast.
The line moved too slowly. The closer they got to the gate, the harder Megan’s heart pounded. Her chest felt tight, like the air itself was running out.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I actually can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Yoonchae said, standing right in front of her in line. “One step at a time.”
Megan shook her head. “No, you don’t understand—I feel like I’m gonna throw up or pass out or both.”
“Okay,” Yoonchae said, immediately switching into Problem-Solving Mode™. “Breathe with me.”
“I *am* breathing—”
“No, you’re panic-breathing. That doesn’t count.”
Megan let out a shaky laugh that turned into a half-sob.
Yoonchae gently grabbed her wrist.
“In for four,” she said. “Hold for four. Out for four. Come on.”
Megan tried to follow, even though her brain was screaming.
“In… two, three, four…”
Yoonchae’s voice stayed steady, like an anchor.
“Hold… two, three, four…”
Megan squeezed her eyes shut.
“Out… two, three, four…”
They did it again. And again.
Slowly—very slowly—the static in Megan’s chest eased just a little.
“You’re doing good,” Yoonchae said quietly.
“I feel insane,” Megan mumbled.
“You’re not insane. You’re scared. Big difference.”
“…this is like, embarrassingly scared though.”
“Okay, and?” Yoonchae shrugged. “Fear doesn’t have a ‘cool’ scale. You feel what you feel.”
Megan stared at her.
“How are you so… normal about this.”
“I’m not normal,” Yoonchae said immediately. “I just panic about different things.”
“…like what?”
Yoonchae smirked. “Parallel parking.”
Megan let out an actual laugh this time.
“Be serious.”
“I am serious. That’s my villain origin story.”
---
Then came the moment.
The flight attendant scanned their boarding passes.
“Have a nice flight.”
Megan almost turned around right there.
“I can still leave,” she whispered urgently. “People miss flights all the time. It’s a sign. The universe is telling me to—”
Yoonchae grabbed her hand.
Not aggressively. Not suddenly.
Just… there.
Warm. Steady.
Grounding.
“Megan,” she said.
Megan froze.
Yoonchae gave her hand a small squeeze.
“We’re getting on the plane.”
Something about the way she said we made it feel less like a death sentence.
Megan swallowed hard.
“…okay.”
---
Walking down the jet bridge felt like walking into her own doom.
The air was stuffy. The walls were too close. Every step echoed in her head like this is it this is it this is it.
“I hate this,” she whispered.
“I know,” Yoonchae said.
“I really, really hate this.”
“I know.”
“Why is it so narrow—what if we get stuck in here—”
“We’re not getting stuck in the jet bridge, Megan.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, actually.”
Megan huffed, but she didn’t pull her hand away.
If anything, she held on tighter.
---
The plane itself was worse.
Too many people. Too many sounds. Too many reminders that this was real.
A baby crying somewhere. Overhead bins slamming. The hum of the air system.
Megan’s vision felt slightly off, like everything was a little too sharp and too distant at the same time.
“Seats 14A and 14B,” Yoonchae said, scanning the numbers.
Window seat.
Of course.
Megan stopped walking.
“I can’t sit by the window.”
“Okay,” Yoonchae said immediately. “Then I will.”
She switched their positions without a second thought.
“No big deal.”
Megan blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t care.”
That shouldn’t have meant as much as it did.
But it did.
“…thank you.”
“Obviously.”
They sat down.
Megan buckled her seatbelt with slightly trembling hands.
Yoonchae noticed.
She didn’t say anything—just reached over and gently tapped the metal clasp.
“Secure,” she said. “You’re locked in.”
“Locked in sounds worse.”
“Okay, bad wording,” Yoonchae admitted. “You’re… safely fastened.”
“…better.”
---
The cabin doors closed.
That was it.
No turning back.
Megan’s breathing started picking up again.
“I don’t like that sound,” she said, referring to literally everything.
“Which one.”
“All of them.”
Yoonchae let out a quiet laugh.
“Fair.”
The plane started taxiing.
Megan grabbed the armrest.
Hard.
Her knuckles went white.
“I can’t—I can’t do takeoff,” she said, voice trembling. “That’s the worst part. That’s literally the worst part. I read that most accidents happen during takeoff—”
“Megan.”
Yoonchae’s voice cut through her spiral.
Megan turned her head.
Yoonchae was already looking at her.
Then, without making a big deal out of it, she reached over—
—and laced their fingers together.
Megan froze.
Her brain short-circuited for a second.
“You’re okay,” Yoonchae said softly. “I’m right here.”
The engine noise got louder.
The plane paused.
Megan’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“Like… really scared.”
“I know.”
Yoonchae tightened her grip just slightly.
“Focus on me, okay?”
Megan nodded shakily.
“Don’t look outside. Don’t think about the plane. Just… stay here.”
The engines roared.
The plane started accelerating.
Fast.
Too fast.
Megan squeezed Yoonchae’s hand so hard it probably hurt.
“I don’t like this—I don’t like this—”
“You’re okay,” Yoonchae said, voice calm but firm. “Breathe. Stay with me.”
Megan’s eyes were locked on her.
The world outside the window blurred into nothing.
“All you have to do,” Yoonchae continued, “is get through the next ten seconds. That’s it. Don’t think past that.”
The pressure increased.
Megan felt her stomach drop.
“Oh my god—”
“Ten seconds,” Yoonchae reminded her. “You’ve got this.”
Megan focused on her voice. On her hand. On the steady rhythm of her breathing.
“Eight… nine…”
The plane lifted.
A weird, weightless feeling hit.
Megan gasped.
“Ten.”
Then—
It leveled out.
The intensity faded just slightly.
The noise steadied.
They were… in the air.
Megan blinked.
“…are we—”
“Yep,” Yoonchae said, smiling a little. “We’re flying.”
Megan stared at her.
“…I didn’t die.”
“Shocking, I know.”
A shaky laugh escaped Megan’s lips.
Her grip loosened slightly, but she didn’t let go.
“…thank you,” she said quietly.
Yoonchae shrugged, like it was nothing.
“Told you I’ve got you.”
---
They stayed like that for a while.
Hands intertwined. Shoulders slightly touching.
Megan’s breathing slowly returned to normal.
The panic didn’t disappear completely—but it wasn’t suffocating anymore.
Just… there.
Manageable.
“So,” Yoonchae said after a bit, “on a scale of one to dramatic main character, how are we feeling?”
Megan huffed.
“…like a seven.”
“That’s progress. You were at a solid eleven earlier.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
Megan rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite to it.
“…you didn’t have to do all that, you know.”
Yoonchae glanced at her. “Do what?”
“This,” Megan said, subtly gesturing to their hands. “Babysit me through a panic attack.”
Yoonchae snorted. “First of all, I did not babysit you.”
“Then what would you call it.”
“I would call it… being a decent human being?”
Megan looked at her.
Yoonchae’s expression softened just a little.
“You were scared,” she said simply. “I wasn’t gonna let you go through that alone.”
Something in Megan’s chest tightened—but not in a bad way this time.
“…still,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
Yoonchae squeezed her hand once.
“Anytime.”
---
The rest of the flight wasn’t perfect.
There were moments—like when the plane hit a little turbulence—that Megan’s stomach dropped and her anxiety spiked again.
But every time, Yoonchae was there.
A quiet “you’re okay.”
A gentle squeeze of her hand.
A distraction—random stories, dumb jokes, anything to keep Megan grounded.
At one point, Megan realized she hadn’t let go of her hand for almost the entire flight.
“…your hand is probably numb,” she said.
Yoonchae flexed her fingers slightly.
“Nah. I’ve had worse.”
“Like what.”
“Carrying emotional baggage.”
Megan groaned. “That was so bad.”
“Thank you, I try.”
---
When the plane finally started descending, Megan tensed again—but it wasn’t the same kind of panic as before.
More like… nerves.
Anticipation.
“You good?” Yoonchae asked.
“…I think so.”
“Proud of you.”
Megan blinked.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not.”
“It makes it real.”
Yoonchae smiled slightly.
“It is real. You did it.”
Megan looked down at their hands—still loosely intertwined.
“…yeah,” she said quietly. “I guess I did.”
---
The landing was bumpy.
Not gonna lie.
Megan flinched a little when the wheels hit the ground.
But she didn’t spiral.
Didn’t panic.
Just… held on.
And then—
They were safe.
On the ground.
Alive.
Megan let out a long breath.
“…oh my god.”
Yoonchae grinned. “Congratulations. You survived.”
“I’m never doing that again.”
“Cap.”
“Okay, maybe… with you.”
The words slipped out before Megan could overthink them.
Yoonchae raised an eyebrow.
“…oh?”
Megan felt her face heat up.
“I mean—like—not—ugh—you know what I mean—”
Yoonchae laughed.
“I know what you mean.”
Megan groaned, hiding her face in her hands.
“Kill me now.”
“You just survived a plane ride and now you want to die? Be serious.”
Megan peeked at her through her fingers.
Yoonchae was still smiling.
Soft. Warm. A little teasing—but not in a mean way.
“…thanks for not letting me freak out,” Megan said.
Yoonchae tilted her head.
“Who says you didn’t freak out?”
“Wow.”
“I’m kidding,” she said quickly. “You did great.”
Megan rolled her eyes—but she was smiling too.
And as they stood up to leave, Megan realized something.
Flying was still scary.
Like… really scary.
But maybe—
just maybe—
it wasn’t something she had to face alone.
And somehow…
that made all the difference.